


England Gets The Ones You Never Need.

by teakroses



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/F, Wingtalia, literal broken bird story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teakroses/pseuds/teakroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She had no idea how far home was from here, or even where “here” was. Her instinctual compass was thrown off by a gnawing hunger and the dizzying electrons firing and crackling in the clouds. She wiped at her face, not sure if she was clearing her vision of tears or rain. Both, she assumed, not that it made a difference."</p><p>Nyo!NorEng wingtalia AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall

She knew this was a mistake. She knew it was a mistake to leave her home five minutes after fleeing but it was too late to turn around now. The wind and sharp rain stung against her face. She could feel the electricity of the storm tingle in the quills of her feathers. Thunderstorms terrified her on normal days where she could watch them happen from the safety of her mountainside home... and here she is flying in one.

She had no idea how far home was from here, or even where “here” was. Her instinctual compass was thrown off by a gnawing hunger and the dizzying electrons firing and crackling in the clouds. She wiped at her face, not sure if she was clearing her vision of tears or rain. Both, she assumed, not that it made a difference.

She needed a place to land. This bird has flown too far. She searched the ground below her for a suitable place to roost but the storm gets the better of her. A bellow of wind blasts against her wings and sent her spiraling to the muddy countryside. Exhaustion makes it impossible for her to fight the storm and gravity. The last thing she remembered was hitting the ground a painful crack.

____________________

Rosa sighed as she pulled on her rain boots, the shiny green ones she bought in preparation for this kind of day. As ridiculous as she knew they looked, they were necessary for this life in the perpetually muddy English country side. It wasn’t raining right at that second but that thunderstorm last night was a guarantee for mud. She had no doubts the rain will start again sooner or later.

She sat in silence on the stairs mentally preparing herself for the day as the old house creaked and breathed around her. The yellowed wall paper was slowly peeling its way off the walls, curling onto itself at the corners. Her wooden floors were as squeaky as they looked when she walks on them. The bucket in the corner for ceiling drip (emptied this morning) waited patiently for the next heavy rain. Her fat, aged cat snoozed comfortably in the bay window, enjoying the sun warming his shaggy orange and white fur. Christ, she wanted nothing more than to have a cigarette and climb back into bed.

Sadly, that wasn’t an option. Far too many things to do today, she told herself. She rose from the steps and walked across the squeaky wood floors, not feeling any more ready to face the day than she did before she sat down.

“I know I’m trying to kick the habit, but you won’t judge me for slipping up, will you, Crumpets?” She asked the cat. The Scottish fold answered in the usual way cats answer, by completely ignoring her. “If I die young, it’s your fault for not stopping me from lighting up.”

“You don’t care as long as your bowl’s full, do you, you fat sod?” Rosa asked as she pulled on her coat. She couldn’t help but finger the paper box and lighter still in her pocket. The napping cat continued to be less than supportive. “Wish I could live like that. It’d make things a lot easier.”

She approached the bay window to give the cat a parting scratch behind the ears when she saw a mass of mud and feathers in the grassy field not too far from her window. “Is that-?” She leaned towards the glass to get a better look. “No- There’s no way that’s a bird. Could it be an-?” The word seemed too ridiculous to say out loud. Since when do angels appear as feathery heaps in fields? More so, since when do angels appear in _England_? She needed to see it for herself and make her judgements from there.

She was out the door and across the squishy field in a matter of minutes. Even from a distance, it was easy to tell whatever it was had an incredible wingspan.

“Hello?” She called out, not sure what to expect. The creature could be dead for all she knows. She approached it carefully, trying not to scare it in the event that it was still breathing.

The wings stirred ever so slightly. Rosa could hear a small pained whine from the pile of feathers. It sounded confusingly human. “Do you need help?” She asked it. Again, the feathers moved. They were as flared out as they could be, seeing as they were covered in mud and grass. It reminded her of a canary her aunt used to have that would fluff up when it was scared or provoked by her or one of her siblings.

“Come now, sweetheart... I’m not going to hurt you.” She said gently, kneeling on the ground besides the creature. The grass soaked through her tights, but she could ignore that for the time being. “You poor thing. What happened?”

The creature whined in pain again as it struggled and forced itself into a sitting position. Rosa couldn’t believe it. It was an exhausted looking woman with matted blonde hair, dressed in warm looking furs and animal skins under all of those feathers. Well... a woman plus a pair of piercing blue eyes and incredibly large wings. Fully spread, they were probably at least two or three times as big as the petite woman who possessed them. The winged woman tried to spread her wings out but shrieked when her left wing failed to straighten out. She hugged her legs to her chest and stared daggers at Rosa over her knees.

“Now, I already told you I’m not going to hurt you.” Rosa said, hoping she sounded calmer than she was. She definitely didn’t want to scare the bird woman now, especially when she’s hurt and in possession of what looks like pitch black talons in place of fingernails.

“Can you understand me?” She asked, mentally praying to whatever power is out there that she can.

The bird woman stared... then nodded.

Relieved, she asks something else. “Can you speak?”

The bird woman nodded again.

“What’s your name?”

The bird woman was silent.

“Don’t be shy,” She coaxed. “I already promised I wouldn’t hurt you. My name is Rosa”

Still no response. Just those blue eyes glaring at her.

“Do you not want to talk to me?”

The bird woman shook her head.

“That’s fine, I suppose. I talk more than most people care to listen, if you haven’t noticed yet.” Rosa sighed. “Do you want me to help you with that wing?”

The bird woman’s eyes shot to her broken, bent wing momentarily, then back to Rosa. Something shifted in the woman’s expression. Her eyes were widened in terror at seeing the damages.

“I know. It looks pretty bad, doesn’t it? Your wing will need to be set and put in a splint for a few weeks but it can heal.” She explains. “I can do that fairly effectively if you like. I was a nurse for years before I decided to quit. I still know my fair share.”

The bird woman tilted her head slightly, as if she was debating on whether or not to trust her.

“What do you say?” Rosa asked. “I don’t think you have too many options.”

The bird woman sighed, knowing that what she said is true... then nods.

“Good.” she replied, standing up slowly as to not ruffled the bird woman’s feathers any more than they already are. “I’ll have to get you back to the house... can you walk?”

Pushing a lock of her hair away from her face, the bird woman’s eyes moved to the ground and she shrugged.

“It’s not a long walk.” She offered her hands to help the bird woman to her feet. “I’ll help you.”

The bird woman bit her lip and cautiously took Rosa’s soft hands with her taloned ones.

Helping the winged woman to her feet was easier than Rosa imagined. She was lighter than she looked, even with her back full of feathers. She read somewhere that birds had hollow bones that made them light enough for flight. Maybe this woman was the same way.

When the bird woman was certain she was steady enough to walk, she refused any extra help. She didn’t need the extra help, it seemed. Nothing beside her wing looked to be damaged beyond a few bruises and cuts. She followed Rosa’s lead to the house in quiet. Rosa tried to get something out of her with a few more questions, but to no avail. She nodded or shook her head or shrugged when she could, but refused to break her silent demeanor.

“Are you sure you can speak?” Rosa questioned again. The bird woman nodded. “So you chose to be silent.” Again, she nods. “Fine.” Rosa rolled her eyes and led her into the house. “Mind your wings, dear.”

________________________

After a quick scrub to get rid of the mud (she was fascinated with the concept of a shower. She chirped the entire time the water was turned on her.), the bird woman’s broken wing was set and splinted using strips of an old bed sheet and some pieces of wood found in the basement. It was and excruciating procedure, the bird woman shrieked in pain when her bones were moved into place, but it was also a thankfully short one. Rosa made sure she was comfortable resting on the couch when all was said and done.

The woman laid on her stomach, letting her heathy wing of a white and brown and gold calico drape gracefully off of the couch and on to the floor, while her broken one laid curled against her side. Rosa had given her some medicine for the pain that made her eyes close and fluttered open as she resisted sleep.

“Go to sleep, love. You’re going to need all the rest you can get.” Rosa said grabbing her car keys off of the counter. “I have to go into town to get dinner for tonight. Will you be okay alone?”

The bird woman nodded sleepily, moving her folded arms from below her chin to in front of her face.

“I won’t be gone for long.” Rosa promised. “What do you want for dinner? Anything in particular?”

“Fish.” The woman mumbled in reply.

Not expecting an answer, Rosa almost dropped her keys in surprise. “I- well, fish it is.” She laughs a little. “Maybe I’ll make fish and chips. I’m sure you’ll like that.” The bird woman said nothing more as Rosa left the house. She was sound asleep as her car pulled out of the garage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know how Norge's wings look, google "golden eagle." I'd say the bird fits her personality quite nicely.


	2. A Friendly Phone Call Between Two Pals

Rosa’s phone rang as she stood in line with her basket full of tonight’s dinner. She wasn’t sure why. No one ever had a reason to call her. 

“Rosie!” A familiar voice greeted her. “How ja holding up?” 

“Holding up just fine, Gil.” She sighed. She never could get him to stop calling her that. If she's anything, she certainly isn't rosy. The git must think he’s being clever and ironic. “Why do you ask?” 

“Luddy told me to ring you up to make sure you weren’t being stabbed or kidnapped or anything. He’s such a good kid, isn’t he? I must have raised him right.” The German voice laughed. “You haven’t been stabbed or kidnapped lately, right?”  

“I can’t say I have.” Rosa blinks, baffled as to why he would ask. “What are you on about?” 

“Apparently the police got a noise complaint. They said your neighbors heard a woman screaming.” 

Oh right. How could she forget _that_ screaming.   

“Well, you can tell Ludwig that it wasn’t me.” Which was completely true. She shifted the phone to her shoulder as she loaded the conveyer belt and searched her pockets for her wallet. It was in one of them, she was sure. 

“Great!” Rosa could hear that big irritating grin in his voice. “It would have sucked if you got murdered.” 

“Can’t agree with you more.” The wallet was in her jacket pocket, thrown in next to the cigarettes. “Queue’s moving, I have to go pay for my groceries. I’ll talk to you later. Send Ludwig my love.”

“Hey before you go, are you free Satur-” Not interested in dating after her last spectacular failure of a relationship and certainly not interested in Gilbert, she hung up before he could finish his sentence. 

How that man could receive so much rejection and still come back for more was beyond her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rosa doesn't hate him, she just thinks he should shut up every once and a while.


	3. Of Pins and Lockets

When Rosa returned, the house was as quiet as ever. The loudest noise was the sound of her grocery bags rustling as she plunked them on the kitchen table. 

The setting sun made the bay window dark and useless to the cat. Rosa found the fat orange sod sleeping with his nose pressed up to his food bowl, waiting for his next meal. She stroked him from his head to his stubby tail and put a handful of kibbles into the ceramic bowl.  

After feeding the cat, she looked in on the bird woman. She was sound asleep with her arm and tangled platinum blonde hair over her face and her good wing still hanging off of the couch like a feathery calico blanket. Rosa let her be. There was no point bothering the poor thing right this minute. She could always ask questions that the bird woman can refuse to answer later on. 

Rosa tossed her coat onto a kitchen chair, keen on getting dinner started. Though she, nor anyone else, would consider her a strong chief, frying fish was one of the dishes she could manage. It wasn’t the fancy French cuisine her ex-fiancee used to cook up almost effortlessly but it was what she could do. Plus, it was a lot less expensive than ordering carry out every night.

Halfway through cooking, Rosa turned to see the bird woman watching her. 

“Oh-!” She jumped, almost dropping her spatula in the bubbling oil. “A little warning next time if you will.” 

The bird woman said nothing, her eyes moving to the pan. 

“It’s fish, just like you asked.” Rosa said defensively. “Unless, of course, I’m going completely mad and imagined you said that... in which case, I’m making fish and I hope for your sake you’re alright with that.” 

The bird woman nodded. Rosa wasn’t sure if it was in approval or if she was agreeing that she was going insane. She wouldn’t doubt if it was both. her eyes trailed back to Rosa’s, as if she had something to ask but couldn’t quite spit it out. 

“Something you need, dear?” Rosa asked, setting the spatula down by the stove.  

The bird woman nodded... then drew a cross on her open palm with her taloned index finger. It took Rosa a moment and a few repeats of the gesture to realize what she was asking for.  

“..Oh! Er-” She searched her pockets, eventually pulling a small silver cross out of the front pocket of her jeans. It was a pin she had taken out of the woman’s hair as she helped her in the shower. She had forgotten about it until now. “Is this it?” 

With a smile on her thin lips, the bird woman nodded. Rosa gave it back to her, finding it strange the she pinned in onto her temple. It wasn’t straight up and down like the crosses on the church she never attended or upside down like the goth kids she saw at the rock shows in her youth. It was sideways like.. which country had the sideways cross on their flag? 

“Bit of an odd piece of jewelry but it’s very nice on you.” Rosa commented. “Someone get that for you?” 

“My pappa.” The bird woman said, touching the pin in her hair like she was reassuring herself it was still there.  

“Your father?” Rosa replied, surprised by her sudden talkativeness. She couldn’t quite place the accent from the three words she had spoken, but Rosa could tell the bird wasn’t British. “That was nice of him... Did he get you that locket too?” 

The smile fell off the woman’s face when she reached for a locket that wasn’t there. This was the second time Rosa saw panic flash in the woman’s eyes today. 

“It’s okay!” Rosa said, trying to calm her down. “It should still be on the bathroom sink upstairs. I left it there so it wouldn’t-” 

She would have finished her sentence if the woman hadn’t already turned and hurried toward the stairs. 

“Oi! Be careful with that wing. There is no way in hell I’m setting and splinting that thing a second time.” Rosa called after her, picking the spatula back up to flip the fish before it burned.  

“You’re so strange. I don’t even know your name and I’m cooking your dinner and keeping track of your valuables.” Rosa muttered to herself. “Well... I suppose I’ve had worse flatmates.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have 3 chapters and 3 words out of our ever talkative bird lady. Lets see if Rosa can get another one out of her next chapter.


	4. Bird Puns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took forever to post and edit but here you go. Sorry about the wait, life's been busy.

Getting the bird woman to sit at the table was surprisingly easy. She sat there quietly, picking at her food with her black taloned fingers, selecting the pieces of food that fulfill a standard unknown to Rosa. Her good wing was tucked to her side, while the damaged one was rested gracefully on the linoleum floor.  

Rosa studied the woman curiously. She had looked so much at her calico wings and talons, she hadn’t noticed the woman’s surprisingly soft facial features or the eye pleasing slight upturn of her nose. Paired with her thin build and long legs, the woman could have been a model, had she not been part avian. 

Actually, slash that. She could be one of Victoria’s Secret Angels. They wouldn’t even have to bother slapping a pair of fake wings on her. 

“You’re staring.” The bird woman mumbled, hiding a little behind her veil of blonde hair. Strangely enough, the gold of her hair perfectly matched the yellow patches on her wings.

“Ah- sorry…” Rosa broke her gaze by shaking her head. “I haven’t had many guests lately, I must be losing my manners.”  

That wasn’t necessarily a lie. The last person who visited her was the bloke who fixed her water heater. Rosa had been- oh, what’s the word her dear sister used…- “reclusive” in the past few months. The bitter history buff in Rosa would say she’s in a “splendid isolation.”

The bird woman nodded in understanding, then shifted her focus back to dinner. 

“What’s your name?” Rosa questioned gently. She had hope that she would answer this time, the bird was a little chattier than she was when she first asked. 

“Sylvi.” She replied, nibbling on her piece of fried fish. Though she didn’t reject the food outright, it was hard to tell if she was enjoying it or not. Her expression gave away nothing. 

Rosa blinked. “Where are you from?” 

“Den Store Skogen. Humans call it Norway.” Sylvi said around a mouth full of deep-fried fish. 

“Ah.” Rosa said quietly. Considering the bird’s accent, flaxen hair and the muddy Viking style furs she flew in wearing, it would make sense. “This may be just me jumping to conclusions but are you a Valkyrie?” 

“Actually, yes.” Sylvi smiled ever so slightly at her question. “I am not exactly one of the warrior women from the stories but yes, that is what my sisters and I chose to call ourselves.”

Rosa rose a brow. “Chose?” She echoed.

“Chose.” The Valkyrie munched on a fry. “My Greek friend, Cyrena, calls herself a Daughter of Eris. No one wants to settle on a universal name.” 

“So it’s a tradition thing?” Rosa asked, curious. She racked her brain for any mentions of women with wings in the stories her mother told her as a child. She remembered imps and the fae and the unicorns that supposedly roamed Scotland and the dragons that live in Wales and the selkies of Ireland but never anything like the Valkyrie. “What do the English bird people call themselves? Angels?” 

Sylvi shook her head. “They don’t exist. They don’t call themselves anything.”

“Oh.” Rosa blinked at the blunt response. Sylvi certainly didn’t sugar coat things. She had to admit, it was a bit refreshing to talk to someone so to-the-point. Actually, it was nice to talk to someone at all. The Valkyrie was way closer to human company than her fat lump of a cat. 

“Is that where we are?” Sylvi asked tentatively. “England?”

“You’re a long way from home.” Rosa nodded.

Sylvi said nothing, her downturned eyes pointed sadly at her plate. 

“You said there aren’t any people like you in England…” Rosa said carefully, “What are you doing here?”

“… I need to go outside.” The Valkyrie stood up, still a little off balance with the splint on her wing. She stumbled a bit upon standing but determination to leave brought her grace back soon enough. “I don’t like being cooped up.”

“Is that a pun?” The human responded, earning an sky blue glare. “Never mind, just be careful with that-“ The back door slammed closed before Rosa could finish her sentence. She wondered if she should go after her. “-Wing.”

“Flighty girl.” Rosa sighed and resigned herself to clearing the table. Maybe it’s best to let her have a few minutes. Something told Rosa not to push the shy Valkyrie right away. With the way her wing is broken, there will be plenty of time for Rosa to get to know her.Besides… being in the middle of the nowhere that is the country side, there wasn’t too far Sylvi could go. 

________

 A few hours later, the bird had not returned and Rosa had given up on waiting for her to return. Leaving the lights on and the door unlocked, she went to bed, half wondering if she’ll wake up tomorrow and realize her whole yesterday was a dream. 

 


	5. The Stream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> will i ever regularly update this fic?
> 
> the answer is probably no 
> 
> will i ever let it die?
> 
> the answer is HELL NO

Sylvi sat on the muddy river bank. It wasn’t much of a river. It was more of a stream, really. If she wanted to get across it, it would only cost her two long strides and a pair of wet ankles. She chose not to cross. She could feel the mud soaking into the seat of her borrowed pants, though the discomfort was minor enough not to be unbearable. 

The steady flow of the water tumbling pebbles in it’s gentle torrent was soothing enough for her to stay longer. She occupied her time by putting of foliage in the stream. There was something calming about watching plant bits get carried away on the surface of the water as the wrens and the robins nearby shared the morning’s gossip. She lightly placed the petals of a daisy in the stream, her eyes idly following the white boats as they sailed away. 

The rare English sunshine gently warmed her battered wings. Only one was broken but she was sure the other was at least a little bruised. If she didn’t move them, the warmth made it seem almost like they were never hurt. 

She had returned to the Englishwoman’s house that night after she watched the light in the bedroom click off. Sleeping on old the mustard yellow couch with a roof over her head was more appealing than sleeping in the mud under a tree. It was tolerable enough until 5am when Rosa’s cat found her sleeping in the living room and yowled in her face with it’s fishy breath until it’s bowl was filled. 

The bird woman had a strong will. She lived through twenty Norwegian winters, she put up with and often moderated her older sister’s fights, she was known for flying in almost all kinds of weather, over lakes and mountains and against the steady winds of the ocean. She flew in snow, rain and the occasional sleet for miles at a time. 

When her wings itched, she flew. 

There were very few things she couldn’t resist or stand up to. One of those things, besides rabbits and hungry critters, was a nice kitchen all to herself. She wondered, as she decided to make her own breakfast, why the old house with it’s leaky ceilings, drippy faucets and secondhand furniture had such beautiful, modern appliances. There was still bubbled blue plastic protecting the face of the oven. She peeled it off while she watched her muffins bake. Something so new didn’t seem to belong in this house. She asked the cat why the appliances were there. He meowed at her around a mouthful of breakfast seconds. 

It wasn’t an answer. 

Sylvi let her wings spread as much as she could without aggravating the break, determined to soak up as much warmth as she could. The sun made the blood in her veins of her shattered wing tingle weakly. She let herself smile at that. After all that’s happened, falling out of the sky, everything that happened before she left home, she was surprised she had any healing magic left in her. There wasn’t nearly enough power in her body to heal the break right away, she knew that, but it won’t do anything to hurt her healing either. 

Rosa had not known where the bird woman had gone until she stepped outside for a walk to clear her head and a cigarette to scratch an itch. A pale tobacco trail of smoke followed her as she approached the glistening mass of feathers shining by the stream. 

“You leave in the middle of the night and you come back to bake.” Rosa grumbled, sitting herself on the bank downwind of Sylvi. She pulled a long drag, then blew out the smoke in a thin stream. “Full of surprises, aren’t we?”

“Your oven was nice.” Sylvi replied, the ghost of a smile in her voice. “Why is your oven nice?” 

“Is it? I never use it.” Rosa stared across the water at nothing in particular. Her tired eyes felt no motivation to focus on anything but the blurry blending greens of the country and the vast blue of the sky. “She picked it all. I had nothing to do with it.” 

Sylvi cocked her head, turning towards the human with a shy curiosity. “She?” 

“Her.” Rosa said flatly, hugging her knees to her chest with a scowl. “We don’t need to talk about her.”

Sylvi only nodded before dropping the last daisy petal and the stripped stem in the stream. She noted, in the short time that she knew her, that Rosa rarely stopped talking, even when she didn’t think anyone was listening. It must not be good if she didn’t want to talk about it. 

Losing interest in destroying flora, Sylvi decided she was content to just sitting in the sunlight, idly preening the feathers on her intact wing with her fingers. 

“How’s the wing?” Rosa asked, breaking the silence. 

“Mm.” Sylvi hummed noncommittally, brushing through a particularly messy bunch of feathers. “It’s not happy but I will live.” 

“Good, good.” Rosa said, putting her cigarette out on a flat stone. Sylvi watched her from the corner of her eye stuff the butt back in the paper box. It surprised her. Humans don’t usually clean up after themselves. “I’m not an expert on- er- aviation appendages, but I can only guess you’ll be fully healed up in… two months?” 

“Two months?” She echoed, then groaned. She hasn’t been landlocked since she was little and her wings were nothing but down. The thought of it made her a little sick. Then again, if she hadn’t have flown this far, she wouldn’t be in this position. “I suppose that’s what I deserve.” 

“Why would a sweet thing like you deserve a broken limb?” Rosa sighed, pulling another cigarette out of the pack. She didn’t light it, she just held it between her fingers. She was trying to quit, after all. 

Sylvi looked away, her fingers touching the tarnished surface of her locket. “We don’t need to talk about him.”


	6. I still think garlic is pretty interesting.

“Hm. I suppose we don’t.” Rosa commented, flicking the unlit cigarette with her thumb, like she was sending off grey ash. “I can only assume that’s why you ran away?” 

Sylvi said nothing. She stared into the stream, her thin lips refusing to give any expression or answer. What was going on in her head, Rosa couldn’t tell. She only saw a silent storm brewing behind her blue eyes. 

“Well, if it helps, you’re far enough away that he can’t bother you now.And if he tries…” Rosa said gently, letting her legs go flat against the ground. “I’ll break his teeth.”

Sylvi snorted. It wasn’t a noise Rosa expected her to make. “Would you really?”

“What, don’t you believe me?” Rosa said in indignation, crossing her arms over her small chest. Sure, she was 160 centimeters tall and maybe eight and a half stone soaking wet and, yeah, she might wear her hair in pigtails. That doesn’t mean she was a stranger to broken teeth. 

“No, I believe you.” Sylvi said, covering her slight smile with her pointed fingers. “I almost want to see that.” 

“I’ll kick his arse.” Rosa said confidently. “I’ll kick anyone’s arse. I’ll kick-“ 

“Rosa,” Sylvi cut her off, her eyebrows furrowing as she listened to something just outside of Rosa’s hearing. “Who is in your driveway?” 

“I- What?“ She sputtered. She hasn’t had visitors in weeks and she certainly didn’t invite anyone. The ‘this is my new roommate, yes I am aware that she has actual talons and the wingspan of an albatross on steroids.’ conversation was not one she really wanted to have today. “I have no idea.” 

“They’re at your door. Make them go away.” Sylvi said softly, pulling her wings in around her with a quiet rustle. Despite the splint and her feathery mass, she could make herself remarkably small when she wanted to. 

“Alright.” Rosa sighed inwardly. After all she did for her, the valkyrie was just barely starting to trust her. She wasn’t surprised in the least that she’d shy this far away from strangers. “Wait here,”

Sylvi only nodded in response as Rosa got up to make the short trek to the door. 

________

“ROSALIND! I knew you were in!” Shouted the delighted woman with a head full of dark, red brown curls and bright, almond shaped eyes. “Where have you been? I’ve been ringing you all afternoon. I finally have the new book together- did I tell you what this one was about yet?” 

“Camelia, now’s not really a good time…” Rosa said, half heartedly. “Wait, you finished it?”

“Yeah! I mean, it still has to go through my editor a few times but the research is finally done.” Camelia beamed. For as long as she’s known Camelia, which was about fourteen years, she has had a writer’s soul. Of course, Rosa met her when she started writing angsty tween poetry. When she left puberty, she moved on to writing children’s books. Book reviewers from around the world often describe her books somewhere along the lines of “creepy but oddly enchanting and extremely informative.” Which, incidentally, is exactly how Rosa would describe Camelia. 

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense.” Rosa replied. “What have you got for me?”

 

“Okay, so I started out on the history of garlic… which was cool. Did you know that garlic was one of the earliest documented plants for for the treatment of diseases?” Camelia asked, not stopping to listening to an answer. “but then I thought- remember when we were fifteen and you were obsessed with fairies?”

“You say that like I’m not still obsessed with the fae.” Rosa snorted. “They’re out there and they are very real… Anyway, yes. Continue?” 

“Yes, I started thinking about the Zâne instead of garlic and it turned out to be a lot more interesting so now I have a small handbook for five year olds on fairies found in Europe.” Camelia said proudly, holding up a large manila envelope as if to prove herself. “Are you interested in this one?” 

“Are you taking the piss?” Rosa said, her eyes widening in excitement. “You basically wrote this for me to illustrate, didn’t you? Of course I’ll take it!” 

"Good!” She laughed. “Can I come in and show you the drafts?” 

“Er, sure. Come in.” Rosa agreed hesitantly. Hopefully Sylvi won’t mind waiting by the stream for a few more minutes. She didn’t really want to send away her friend just yet… plus she could use a new job. She sent out the last one for final publication two weeks ago. “Tea?” 

“No time.” Camelia said, already walking towards the nearest flat surface, the coffee table. “I have to show you this while I’m still on a roll.”

“Suit yourself.” She said, closing the door behind them. “What do you have for me?”

“Okay, so I started with Eastern Europe, obviously.” She started, pulling papers out of her envelope and fanning them out on the table. “I have some books for you but I asked Anka to dig up some extra resources for you. You should find them in your email and on your doorstep in a matter of days.” 

“God bless Anka.” Rosa mumbled, reading over the first of the papers. “I swear you should be paying her or something for as much as she does for you.” 

“Pay Anka?” Camelia laughed. “She loves digging up obscure resources. I couldn’t pay her if I tried. She just asks me to send her a couple of copies when the books are published. Isn’t she perfect?”

“I suppose she is.” Rosa chuckled. She has never met Anka in person, but she’s exchanged plenty of emails with her and she’s heard a lot about her from Camelia. Anka, a resourceful Bulgarian historical librarian, is Camelia’s favorite information dealer. Camelia has gone to her for everything from vampires to medicinal herbs and always come back with more than enough information or an expert connection on whatever she’s looking for. “You should at least offer to take her on a date.” 

“No! No dates!” Camelia blushed, covering her face. “I might take her to dinner later, but that’s it!” 

“Whatever you say, Cami.” Rosa teased. The way she talked about Anka, Rosa has always suspected their relationship to be more than just information dealing. She hasn’t gotten Camelia to admit it yet but she’s not losing hope any time soon. 

“I told you, there’s nothing-“

“Rosa?” A small voice interrupted. It was Sylvi, standing there biting her lip with one hand touching her elbow. “Who is that?” 

Camelia stopped dead in her tracks. She looked at Rosa, then Sylvi, then Rosa again. 

" _Who is that?_ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Camelia is Nyo!Romania, in case that isn't excessively clear.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> long time no see, egtoynn.   
> sorry about that. i have 2 jobs and college. life frequently gets in the way.

Rosa glanced at Sylvi, glanced at Camelia, then put her cheek in her hand with a sigh. 

“Camelia, this is my- well, I guess she’s my new roommate. Her name’s Sylvi. Yes, she does have wings. Sylvi, this is Cami. She’s a friend.” 

“You best friend.” Camelia corrected. 

“Yes, my best friend.” Rosa rolled her eyes. “Is that really the most important thing you’re worried about right now?” 

“No, but it’s important.” Camelia chuckled, leaving her seat to meet the valkyrie. Sylvi, her feet frozen to the floor, didn’t move. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Her didn’t look down, but she could only assume her downy secondary feather’s were doing the same. 

“Hello.” Camelia said with a smile. It was surprisingly disarming, despite her scraggly canine. “How’s living with Rosie?”

“Don’t call me Rosie.” Rosa protested, but was quickly ignored.

Sylvi only blinked… then shrugged. It wasn’t like she had any choice in living here.

“She’s mothering you to death, isn’t she?” Camelia joked, never missing an opportunity to poke fun at her best friend. 

“Oi-!” Rosa injected, as if she was offended to her very soul. Camelia wasn’t wrong…Sylvi couldn’t help but crack the tiniest, almost undetectable smile. 

“She doesn’t believe me when I tell her she’s a mother hen.”Camelia said, catching that slight change in expression. “You know I’m right, right?”

Sylvi nodded. Rosa huffed loudly. Camelia laughed because she knew she was right. 

“It’s okay though. It’s what I like about her.” Camelia said, her eyes moving from Sylvi’s face to the splint holding her wing together. “What happened there?”

Sylvi didn’t answer. Her minuscule smile disappeared when she turned away to preen a small patch of feathers that stuck out from the splint. 

“Too personal? That’s okay.” Camelia continued, her joking tone changing to something more gentle. Rosa knew it as the tone she used on her little sister years ago when the little girl hid behind Camelia when she was feeling too shy around new people. “Sooo… are you Mediterranean, Polish or Scandinavian?” 

Sylvi’s eyes widened, surprised by the question. 

“Cami, what?” Rosa interrupted, just as confused as the valkyrie. 

“What?” Camelia replied. “There are all sorts of ‘wing people’ legends and myths out there. I mean, you read the Odyssey. You know about the harpies-” 

“They’re not harpies.” Sylvi said flatly. “They’re Daughters of Eris.” 

“Oh.” Camelia blinked. “Are you-?”

“No.” She replied.

“Do you own a horse?” Camelia tried. 

“No?” 

“Are you secretly an angel who fell from heaven?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, really?” Camelia asked, suddenly confused. 

“No.” Sylvi replied in monotone.

Rosa laughed to herself. Sylvi had a lot of cheek in her for someone who barely strung two words together. 

“I guess that makes you a valkyrie!” Camelia said happily. Sylvi only shrugged in response. Camelia took this as a yes. “Wow. That’s so weird. My cousin’s dating a woman who’s best friends with someone who’s brother’s son’s mother is a valkyrie.” 

“How did you even find that out?” Rosa asked, baffled. 

“Sybil had Carmen tell me about it.” Camelia said. “It's what we do at family reunions. Gossip and drink wine."

"Sounds better than my family reunions." Rosa scoffed. "It's not a Kirkland family reunion unless someone gets a broken nose." 

"I'm pretty sure Lexi threw Iris off a balcony after Nonna's birthday party last March." Camelia sighed. "I haven't seen a broken nose at a Vargas party in a while." 

"Wait, didn't you break Zsigmond's nose three years ago?" 

"No, I gave him a bloody nose, not a broken nose. Now we're not allowed to be within swinging distance. " Camelia scowled. "Though, we've been a lot nicer to each other lately. I heard he named his dog after me." 

"Did he really?" Rosa asked, biting back a laugh. Camelia and Zsigmond have been fighting since, what most people would argue, the beginning of time. As kids, people assumed that they'd one day discover that they were passionately in love, get married, ride off into the sunset and have a ton of babies. Unfortunately for them, Camelia turned out to be gayer than a rainbow made of flannel and Zsigmond only liked girls who wear glasses. "What an ass." 

"Who was the brother?" Sylvi piped up. "The one with the valkyrie's son?" 

"What? Oh." Camelia paused, trying to recall. "I don't remember his name. I think he's Danish. You know him?"  

Sylvi shook her head.  


"Ah well. I hope he's doing alright." She said, empathetically. "I heard he was going through some custody problems." 

"I-" Sylvi started. "It must be hard." 

"From what I hear, any custody battle is hard." Camelia sighed. "Though Carmen said they had what they call 'bird lawyers" in Scandinavia so I guess it happens enough." 

"Bird lawyers?" Rosa scoffed. "Really?"

"it's a... loose translation." Camelia defended. "My Spanish is only a little bit better than her English, okay? You should be happy I got that much." 

"Your Spanish is just fine." Rosa argued. 

"I guess but she talks fast and my brain just starts humming _Minim Doi_."  

"You still speak it better than I do." 

"True." Camelia agreed. "Though you speak circles around me in French." 

"Bleh. Don't remind me." Rosa huffed bitterly. "At this point, my French is only good in arguments." 

"Ha. How's your Norweg-" She turned to Sylvi, but saw that she was gone. "Where'd she go?" 

"No idea." Rosa groaned. "I swear, she moves like a ghost. Her footsteps don't even make the floor boards creak."

"Freaky." Camelia said suspiciously. "Maybe you're just going deaf." 

"I'm not going deaf." Rosa grumbled. She swore her hearing got better when she moved out of the city and into this old house. As far as she could tell, it never stopped creaky, dripping, or groaning. Being alone in this place was scary before the sounds and bumps slowly became familiar. The howling of the wolves outside, no matter how far away they sounded still made her sleep less soundly at night. ”Besides, you didn't hear her either." 

“Still though,” She shrugged. “I’m waiting for all of those shows to catch up with you.” 

“I haven’t stood in front of a a speaker in ages. At this point, I think my hearing is safe.” 

“Good.” Camelia beamed. “If you go deaf, who will listen to me ramble?” 

“I know ~Anka~ would.” Rosa teased. Much to her satisfaction, a cherry blush flushed across Camelia’s face. It was way too easy to embarrass her, but it was some how still fun. 

“Oh hush, she goes off just as much as I do.” 

“Yet another reason you two are perfect for each other.” 

“Shh- Shh-“ Camelia shushed in desperate defeat. “No dates!” 

Both of them knew she was denying the truth. As sad as it sounded, Rosa make a silent bet with herself. She decided that she would quit smoking cold turkey if they got together within the next year. It’s been six months and she’s still smoking a pack every few days. It probably wasn’t healthy to depend on Camelia’s love life to cull her habit, but since she hasn’t left the house for anything but food in months, she figured it was better than using her own. 

“Whatever you say, Cami Dearest.” Rosa chuckled.

“Having dinner with someone is NOT a date unless it’s agreed that it’s a date!” She squeaked in embarrassment. 

“I suppose you’re right.” Rosa agreed, not wanting to mortify her further. She laughed inwardly. Maybe she would have to quit soon. 

"I am right." Camelia huffed. "Anyway, I should be going before you harass me more.”

“Hush. I’m not that bad.” 

“Oh no, you are.” She shook her head with a smile. “Come on, give me a hug before I leave.” 

“A hug, really?” Rosa scoffed, standing up. “I’m English, you know I don’t hug.” 

Despite this statement, Camelia still gestured to “bring it in”. Something newly serious in her previously joking expression told her that she should suck it up and give Camelia a hug. 

“Don’t get on her bad side.” Camelia whispered, hoping to avoid the valkyrie’s ears. 

“Cami, I’m pretty sure she’s harmless.” Rosa mumbled back, confused by her friend’s warning. 

“Don’t you smell the magic on her?” 

“She’s wearing my clothes, she eats my food and she lives in my house. Of course she smells like magic.” 

“No no, it’s different. It smells sharper, like an axe.” Camelia said with increasing worry in her voice. “I think she’s hiding something. I can just feel it.” 

“I mean, she could be. She doesn’t say much unless I badger her.” Rosa swallowed, noting how bad that sounds now that she says it out loud. “I don’t think she is, but I’ll keep an eye on her. Between you and I, I think she’s more sad than anything.”

“Still. You should watch her. Valkyries are powerful creatures. It would be a really really bad thing if she turned on you."

“I promise I will.” Rosa said, gently pulling out of Camelia’s death grip. “I’ll be careful, alright?” 

“Good.” Camelia sighed. She didn’t look any less worried but there wasn’t much else Rosa could tell her. “I’m back in the UK for publishing stuff for a few months, so you’ll probably see me again soon bearing book things.” 

Rosa smiled, not doubting what she said in the least. Judging by bags under Camelia’s eyes and the unmistakable smell of a commercial airliner on her clothes, she probably is fresh off her last fight. Rosa wasn’t shocked that Camelia didn't’ tell her she was returning to England. Leave it to Cami to surprise her with a visit. 

“Maybe next time you pop in, I’ll have adopted a dragon." 

“Haha.” Camelia laughed tonelessly. “Please don’t. You make too many dangerous friends.” 

Once the friends said their goodbyes and Rosa promised one more time that she would be careful, she went off to find her newest dangerous friend for the second time today. Maybe she’ll get a few answers out of her this time. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Rosa found her once again. This time, she found her perched at the very top of a tree. She sat balanced on a branch too thin to possibly hold the weight of a human woman her size. She really must have hollow bones. 

The smell of impending rain tickled Rosa’s nose as the sky began to grey once more. She began to worry about the possibility of thunder. 

“Sylvi?” Rosa called over the new wind. “Cami’s gone. Please come down here before you get struck by lightning.” 

She could see her wings slump with a sigh. The woman stood up and walked down the branches as if the tree rose to meet her steps. She dropped to the ground in front Rosa with a soft thud.

“I told you before to be careful with that wing.” Rosa griped, snapping out of the spellbound way she watched Sylvi leave the tree top. It was impossibly graceful, not a twig was broken in her descend. “How did you get up there?” 

“That  _ was _ careful.” Sylvi mumbled, watching the ground.“I lived in a forest. It comes naturally.” 

Camelia was right, Rosa noted. She does smell like magic… though she wouldn’t describe the smell as sharp. Her magic smelled crisp, a little like an autumn morning. She wondered how she missed that before. 

“Why did you run off?” She asked gently as she lead the valkyrie home. She received only a glum shrug for an answer. “Did Cami scare you away?” 

Dead silence. 

_ This again.  _

“I guess you’re not a fan of strangers...” Rosa sighed. “Sorry about that. If it was anyone else, I would have shooed them out.”

“She calls you Rosie.” Sylvi looked at her for the first time since the river. Her glum expression was softened- her eyes brightened as if she wanted to laugh. 

“Oi- don’t you start.” Rosa said, rolling her eyes. “My mum called me that when I was little and Cami likes to tease me with it.” 

“Does she still call you Rosie?” 

“Well, no, she’s dead but I think she would if she could.” 

“Oh.” Sylvi blinked, the newfound brightness fading quickly from her eyes. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. It happened a while ago.” Rosa assured her. Camelia’s warning rung again in her head. _ Valkyries are powerful creatures.  _ Despite the wings and the talons and how impossibly pretty she is- with her high cheekbones, tiny upturned nose and grey blue eyes, Sylvi didn’t invoke the image of a powerful creature. She was timid and sweet and Rosa’s heart ached when she wondered what happened to her to make her this sad. “Can I ask you something?”

“You ask me a lot of somethings.” She replied, her eyes reflecting cracks of sunlight that started to leak through the blanket of clouds on the horizon.

“Are you…” Rosa stopped walking and took a deep breath before finishing her question. Camelia wouldn’t warn her for no reason. It would be better to ask now than to find out later through experience. “Are you dangerous?” 

“Huh?” Sylvi said, her brows furrowing with a genuine sense of perplexity. “Do you think I am?”

“Well… no.” Rosa tugged at her sleeve uncomfortably. “But you do smell like magic.”   


Sylvi cocked her head, even more confused. “So do you.”

“It’s different-” Rosa sputtered. “I’m human, mostly.” 

“Mostly?” 

“I have fae blood.” Rosa admitted. “There are a few changelings in my family tree.” 

“Ah.” Sylvi nodded wisely, as if it all suddenly made sense. “We’re more similar than I thought.” 

“What?” Rosa asked, baffled. “No, I mean- Cami was worried about me living with you.” 

Sylvi sighed a deep, regretful sigh and pushed back a loose lock of her hair. “I’m not dangerous, okay? I’m a- uh, what’s the word- Autumn? I’m not powerful- that’s what I’m getting at.”

“An Autumn?” Rosa echoed.

“Yeah. Our tiers are based on seasons. Summers and Winters are on top, then Springs.” Sylvi said, looking off. “They say that Autumns are pretty but we’re still bottom tier.” 

“Oh,” was the only response Rosa could muster, stunned that she gave up that much from one question. She had a thousand questions running through her head but... Sylvi was so sullen, she refused to look at her. Rosa could only assume she hit her limit for the day. 

_ I guess Cami was wrong _ , she thought, as wave of guilt passed through her.

There was a long pause between the two of them as they returned silently to the house, both their hair and clothes drenched when the sky above opened up and poured down buckets. 

“I didn’t think you’re dangerous,” Rosa said as she handed Sylvi a towel and a folded pile of dry clothes. “Even if you were. I...” She paused to collect her thoughts. “I know we basically just met and this is odd for me to say but I- I trust you and I’m sorry I upset you.” 

Sylvi took the clothes, placing a kiss on Rosa’s forehead before walking off to change.  _ A blessing _ . Rosa thought, surprised at the word the action invoked in her mind.  _ I suppose I’m forgiven.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's my birthday so have this fic update
> 
> i know i haven't touched it in a year but i'm still holding on to the hope that i'll finish it.


End file.
